


Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt

by bankrobbery



Category: Detroit Evolution - Fandom, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Detroit Evolution, Established Relationship, Inconsequential fluff, M/M, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bankrobbery/pseuds/bankrobbery
Summary: "Why do I get the impression your brother is preparing to duel me for your honor?" Gavin asks.Nines, at least, has the decency to look guilty. “He was going to find out about us eventually, Gavin.”Connor and Hank return from New York.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 25
Kudos: 426





	Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the events of [Detroit Evolution](https://youtu.be/apUn-YMMdZ8). I'm still not over this ship.

Connor has been back in the precinct for a grand total of eleven minutes when he corners Gavin at the coffee maker in much the same way an overzealous dog might corral sheep. It’s been two glorious months since he and Anderson went away on their department sanctioned honeymoon - or  _ training _ exercise, whatever you want to call it - and, although he’s known they were coming back on Monday for two weeks now, there’s a part of him that’s been ignoring the approaching date like it’s something he can will out of existence if he tries hard enough. Obviously he’s failed, because there’s Connor in his colorless blazer and his abhorrent skinny tie like he never left.

"Holy fuck," Gavin hisses, spilling scalding coffee all over his hand and the counter top in his surprise, while hastily attempting to pretend he's in control of the situation. He attempts to back away out of instinct, to put some distance between himself and someone who is intimately familiar with what it feels like to knock him out cold, but there’s nowhere to go. "What the fuck, Connor?"

"Good morning, Detective Reed," Connor says, and nothing about his expression gives anything away, but Gavin has hated him long enough to be able to tell when he's being fucked with. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” Gavin replies sharply, because his tongue and his self-preservation instincts are very rarely on speaking terms. He tries to scoot around where Connor has him cornered, much the same way one might try to extricate themselves from a lion’s den, but Connor’s arm shoots up to rest against the fridge at his back, blocking his exit, and Gavin freezes. 

“I must insist,” Connor continues in that same pleasant tone he always has, like he’s just finished a boy scout troop meeting and wants to know who is chaperoning next week’s camping trip. The carefully manufactured friendliness of Connor’s demeanor has never fooled Gavin and two months of his absence hasn’t done anything to strengthen that relationship.

“Get on with it,” Gavin snaps. He’s actually got a pretty good idea of what this is about. He’s a detective after all and they don’t keep him around because of his charming personality and giving nature. It’s not that he hasn’t expected this moment to occur, it’s just that he had kind of hoped they might make it until at least lunch before they had to approach the elephant in the precinct. It wouldn’t even be an elephant if it weren’t for the fact that Tina Chen and Chris Miller have proven themselves completely incapable of keeping their questionably witty comments and banter to themselves for once.

Despite the fact that there’s not a freckle in a different spot, not a hair out of place, Gavin has never had trouble telling the Wonder Twins apart. The first dead giveaway is that, despite what everyone thinks, Nines puts up with an enormous amount of his shit. Nines puts him in his place, and he can be as much of an asshole as Gavin, but at the end of the day Nines has always been excruciatingly patient with him and put up with way more than any one person - human or Android - feasibly should be capable of. In comparison, Connor post revolution puts up with exactly zero of Gavin's shit and, despite being the shorter and less murderously programmed of the two, is easily the more terrifying brother.

“Nines has advised me that you have no plans for this evening,” Connor smiles at him then, in a way that is probably meant to put him at ease but does nothing of the sort. “Would you care to join us for dinner, detective?”

Connor still hasn’t touched him, but it feels like getting punched in the face anyway. Gavin recoils a little automatically. 

“Dinner,” he repeats, and the word in his mouth feels like chewing tinfoil. It sits uncomfortably in the air between them like the threat it undoubtedly is. 

“Does six thirty work for you?”

Six thirty does not work for him. No time currently works for him. There is no appropriate time or day for this situation to occur. 

“No, I’m busy, Nines must’ve been mistaken,” Gavin tells him. 

“It’s not a request, detective,” Connor informs him reluctantly, like there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. He’s still smiling pleasantly. Finally,  _ finally _ , he takes a step back and relinquishes Gavin’s personal space. “I look forward to seeing you there.”

**-/-**

Nines has never been late a day in his short-lived one year of existence and that doesn’t change today. He shows up right at his scheduled start time, down to the minute, in a way that suggests he might have stood outside the building watching the time and then entered at the last viable second. He has a cup of coffee in hand from that cafe down the street that Gavin refuses to admit he loves and he sits it on Gavin’s desk in a way that would usually garner some sort of smartass remark, but today Gavin can’t do anything more than glance up at him through where his face is resting in both his hands. 

“Good… morning,” Nines tries, hesitantly. “Is everything all right, Gavin?”

“No, nothing is all right,” Gavin informs him, because there’s no greater time to discuss this than the present. “I thought we agreed we were going to keep things on the DL for a while?”

“Why would I keep us a secret? I’m not ashamed of being with you.”

There’s that obnoxious curl of warmth in the pit of his stomach again that makes the back of his neck heat up. Nines always says shit like this as though he doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t need time to process. He just opens his mouth and lays all his cards out on the table, regardless of how high the stakes are, and Gavin is left floundering around behind him attempting to regain some sense of control over his own traitorous heart. 

“But it would make things a lot easier if no one gave you shit for it,” Gavin reasons and pointedly does not glance around the bullpen at anyone in particular. It’s not like he’s unaware that he’s the metaphorical poster child for ‘most punchable face in the DPD.’

Nines raises both eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. What’s your real concern here, Gavin?”

“Myself, obviously. When is it not?”

“Yourself,” Nines repeats and leans back. His LED spins yellow. “Someone is harassing you over our relationship?”

Which is really a loaded question, isn’t it? Who  _ hasn’t _ been giving him shit over his newfound relationship with Nines? 

Tina Chen is most definitely harassing him on a daily basis over his newfound relationship. Not a single day has gone by where she hasn’t made some excuse to swagger by his desk, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, and making lewd implications about the state of Nines’ processors. The precinct is swamped as per usual, but Tina has still managed to find time in her day to give him as much shit as she can. Although she’s earned it, hasn’t she? After everything he’s put her through and after all the bullshit she’s put up with from him over Nines in the last few months. It makes sense that he should get his just rewards and he knows every comment and every suggestive glance is well meant.

But that’s not what this conversation is about. 

"Why do I get the impression your brother is preparing to duel me for your honor?" Gavin asks, pointedly not glancing over to where the detective in question is interfacing quietly with his computer. "Maybe I'm just projecting, but Connor hasn't even been back in the state long enough for me to piss him off, unless-"

And there it is. Nines' LED goes back to blue and he looks - and there's just no other way of putting it - egregiously  _ guilty _ .

"Your brother hates me," Gavin reasons, deadpan. "I hate your brother. This was a no brainer, Nines." 

"Don't be ridiculous. Connor doesn't hate anyone. He rescues spiders from the bathtub and releases them outside."

Great. Gavin ranks somewhere below trapped, trespassing arachnids on an RK unit's priority list. Fantastic. 

"And he was going to find out eventually," Nines continues. "I would rather him find out from me."

"You couldn't have given it a day? Or two? Did you have to interface with him the moment he stepped out of baggage claim?" He's being insufferable about this and he knows it, but there's only so much he can do to reign himself in. He leans forward, voice quieter and says, desperate, "Nines, I'm thirty six years old. I can't do this ‘meet the parents’ bullshit. In case you haven't noticed I'm not the kind of guy you bring home to show off."

Nines' stares at him blankly for a moment and then misses the point entirely. "Gavin, I don't have parents."

"Connor invited me over for dinner," he blurts, out of other viable options.

He expects reassurance from Nines. That's part of why he says it. He expects Nines to swoop in and confirm that everything is going to be okay, so when Nines flinches back and looks  _ worried _ , Gavin feels like eating his stapler.

"Oh," Nines says, and his LED is a concerning shade of yellow. 

  
  
  


**-/-**

  
  
  


Gavin has never needed a homicide more in his life than he does today. 

Which isn’t to say that they don’t already have three open cases he could be occupying himself with, but all three of those cases are waiting on warrants or forensics and they’re not viable excuses at the moment. No, they’re not the life threatening emergency that Gavin needs right now to escape this impending social catastrophe. 

“I need you to stab me,” he tells Tina the next time he sees her, and it’s a testament to all of the shit they’ve been through together that she doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash in response.

“Lately you haven’t really given me a good reason to want to stab you. You’ve got to step up your game a little,” she says and nods her head at him. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people in the department who don’t feel as conflicted.”

“Maybe a broken bone then,” he agrees. “You can just shove me down the stairs and hopefully I’ll survive.”

“Are we doing this out of boredom or….?”

“I have a social situation I need to get out of.”

Tina nods again in understanding. “Ah, one of those. Gotcha. Yeah, I don’t know that Nines would appreciate me breaking your collarbone. Might have to pass on that.”

“Tina, you’re supposed to be my friend. Friends help each other.”

“Weaseling your way out of having to deal with your feelings has only ever gotten you into trouble, Gav,” she says, patting him on the shoulder, as unsympathetic as ever. “You’ve gotta learn to meet people halfway when it comes to this sort of thing.”

  
  


**-/-**

Gavin can do this. He can meet halfway.

Nines finds him at the end of the day in the break room, attempting to drown himself in his eighth cup of coffee. It’s a testament to how high strung he’s feeling that Nines’ presence does nothing to calm his nerves and does even less to settle the uneasiness churning around in his stomach. 

“I’ve had some time to process your concerns,” Nines says, “and I believe they are unfounded.”

The coffee machine sputters pitifully. It also wants to be put out of its misery. Gavin looks up from the coffee maker and furrows his brow. The earnest expression on Nines’ face makes him nervous. 

Gavin doesn’t know how to pretend to be optimistic. He repeats, voice dry, “Unfounded.”

"I spoke with Connor regarding this evening and he has assured me he means you no physical harm."

Gavin recoils. “Whoa, whoa, your concern this whole time has been Connor - what? - beating my ass? I thought you said he wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“No, I said he doesn’t have the capacity for hate,” Nines explains slowly, patient as always. “Punching you in the face is another conversation entirely. Even androids have a limit, Gavin, and you don’t always strive to endear yourself to others.”

Which is fair, of course, but does nothing to alleviate the turmoil still churning away in Gavin’s gut that feels like he’s swallowed a hive of angry wasps. The idea that Connor might simply be interested in having their proverbial shovel talk with a literal shovel had occurred to him in passing, but it hadn’t really been something concerning. 

It’s not like Gavin is a stranger to getting the shit beat out of himself for opening his mouth at the wrong time, or for getting involved in shit that others would really rather he not, and maybe he doesn’t like the idea of getting his ass beat but it’s not exactly keeping him up at night. No, the issue with this entire situation has never been the idea he might get his face beat in. 

“Great,” he says, instead of anything more incriminating. “Good to know I don’t need to worry about that.” 

Nines tilts his head, considering, and Gavin actively regrets dating an investigative android with advanced perception. That LED is whirling yellow again, which is never a good sign. 

“Your concern was not a physical altercation,” Nines reasons, mostly to himself, and Gavin entertains the thought of closing his own head in his desk.

“My concerns are dumb. I’m dumb. Let’s ignore me together.”

“You’re concerned that my found family will disapprove of our relationship,” Nines concludes slowly, and the softening of his expression makes Gavin feel a myriad of things he doesn’t want to examine. “You’re concerned they will disapprove of you.”

It sounds incriminating in the air between them, but, as always, Nines isn’t  _ wrong _ . 

“I’m not concerned about that at all,” Gavin replies, dryly, and downs his now lukewarm eighth cup of coffee in one impressive gulp. “I  _ know _ they disapprove. I don’t need verification, Nines. I can connect all these dots by myself.”

It’s not like Connor hasn’t been eyeing him suspiciously for the past couple of months either way, like he has the ability to see through all of Gavin’s bullshit with some sort of built in monitor. Maybe it’s news to Gavin that he’s actually in love with his partner and best friend, but it’s obviously not been news to anyone else in his life (with, perhaps, the exception of Chris Miller) and so it makes sense that Connor might have suspected. It makes sense that Connor might have some qualms about the racist asshole who tried to shoot him suddenly deciding to date his adopted brother. 

Nines considers him for a long minute, before he reaches out and takes his hand, like they’re not standing in the middle of the break room during working hours. “Connor would not invite you over just to dismiss you. I believe he genuinely seeks an opportunity to mend things between you for my benefit.”

Gavin doesn’t know what Connor would do, because he’s never once given any thought to having to deal with him outside of work. It’s a decision that is clawing its way back to haunt him now and he can appreciate how much his past self has fucked him over in this regard. Maybe Connor truly is just interested in building a metaphorical bridge over the troubled waters that is his relationship with Gavin. 

“You have to know I’ve never sought the approval of others in regards to our partnership,” Nines continues. “Professional or personal.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want it. I think that’s a normal thing, Nines, wanting the people you care about to like each other. I’m not begrudging you that.”

“Of course it would make things simpler to have everyone get along, but I’ve always been prepared to deal with the outcome either way,” Nines says, and the softness of his smile matches the hand he places on Gavin’s jaw. “I want you. Nothing else matters to me.”

Gavin is not an android, but if he had a primary directive he knows it would be ‘Make Nines Happy.’ He can do this. He can meet him halfway.

“Then what the hell,” he says, before he loses his nerve. “Dinner it is.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
